Roses in December
by Shobogan
Summary: Ten of the Doctor's favourite childhood memories.


I

I

It is his first day of Academy. He's hurried through the halls with a dozen other tiny Prydonians, all too nervous to speak with each other; he feels quite alone, and quite overwhelmed.

He wonders if they know he ran away.

A shoulder brushes his, and his head whips around to find sharp blue eyes in a pale round face.

"Sorry," the other boy mutters; his voice is soft and low. The child who would be the Doctor shakes his head.

"It's okay. I was bored anyway."

The stranger smiles, and somehow he thinks this is a rare occurrence, and feels proud.

"What's your name, then?"

The smile widens; perhaps he isn't used to being asked.

"Long and dull. Call me Koschei."

II

It's only been a few years, hardly the blink of an eye, but already he is bored with it all. When he isn't questioning the lectures incessantly they put him to sleep, and neither endears him to the professors; he can rarely concentrate on his work long enough to finish it.

There are more interesting things to learn, after all.

Koschei finds him working on an anti-gravity device, and eventually joins in.

It will be their first prank.

III

She looks down on him, but then she looks down on everyone, so it isn't personal. In fact, she called him more interesting than the rest of the rabble, and from Ushas that was a high compliment indeed.

He and Koschei enlist her brilliance in a project, a legitimate one for once; they work surprisingly well together. His ingenuity, Koschei's thoroughness, her cunning.

When it is finish, their pride in it binds them; though she may never admit it, she's with them now, and their brand of mischief will never be the same.

IV

He is called Theta Sigma now, a derogatory nickname he decided to embrace. His studies are slipping further still, but he's beginning to think he can use this to his advantage.

It saves him the trouble of actually working as hard as he can; paying attention in the classes he finds boring, studying extensively in the classes he finds challenging. It is only Koschei who pushes him to succeed.

One day, in a tutoring session, Theta tells him exactly why he's holding back.

"It's not worth it, Koschei. I've been learning, just not what they want me to – I want to see the worlds they don't like. I want Gallifrey to change. And, well, they don't expect some dim slacker to try, do they?"

Koschei stares, and shakes his head, and Theta knows he won't be rejected.

V

It was Ushas who taught him the value of biochemistry. They spent late nights in her laboratory, he being very careful not to touch anything without her permission.

What bothered him, really, is that she treats her test subjects as nothing but; they are living creatures, and some of them writhe in pain beneath her ministrations.

She knew, of course, who set them free, and he's never allowed into her lab again, but he thinks it was worth it.

VI

It was a harrowing row, and Ushas had to come between them before it came to blows; she lectured them in her firm, imperious voice and left them in separate corners of the room.

After some time, Koschei speaks quietly to the wall.

"I just meant it wasn't feasible."

"Yeah, well, that's half the point."

Koschei turns his head, no doubt shocked that Theta admitted that much; the other boy is staring at him, his gaze unfathomable.

"We try for something impossible, and even if we don't reach it, on the way up…"

"…We still get closer," Koschei finishes.

They share weak smiles, and forgive each other in silence.

VII

They've escaped the Citadel, as they often do, and they sit against an ancient tree to watch the stars. Their long legs are hidden by the scarlet grass, and silver leaves fall into their hair.

They talk in low murmurs of the stars they will see one day, of plans to change the world; this time, they do not argue, they do not compete.

This time, when Theta turns his head to meet Koschei's eyes, just a shade darker than his own, their lips brush.

VIII

He's been working diligently, this is true, but not on what he ought to – well, what they believe he ought to.

He's been compiling books of fairytales, translated carefully into Gallifreyan; a frustrating process, but one well worth it, he believes.

Time Lords don't have fairy tales. A few ancient rhymes left over from an age before, that's all, and it's not nearly enough. Not compared to what other worlds have.

So he makes his books, and he hands them out to the children. Many of them scoff; some of them are delighted.

When a group of children corners him in a hallway and ask for more, he beams.

IX

It is a field trip, of sorts; all Prydonians in their year attend, and they decide the planet by vote. Theta may have altered the results, for they end up visiting Earth.

Koschei and Ushas look annoyed, but they don't say a thing.

They're not allowed to talk to anyone, to buy anything, to ride a train, as one person asked until he is told quite firmly to shut up about it.

Theta, however, decides he needs a remnant of this first venture outside of Gallifrey.

Ushas thinks he's made when he gathers the sand, but she covers for him, just as he did when she sedated a mouse and slipped it in her pocket.

It will be the first in his glass collection, an elegant bottle that both she and Koschei will grudgingly admire.

X

Finally, he is graduating. Ushas already has; Koschei stayed with him for the years he needed to repeat – it worried Theta slightly but he decided not to dwell on it, to simply feel grateful and relieved.

Together, they endure the long, tedious ceremony in heavy robes and ridiculous hats, following every rule quietly and efficiently.

Their first prank at the Academy becomes their last as everything begins to float.


End file.
